


you see i'm only here to let you know that i love you and i'll never let you go

by simplysweetperfection (tinydemons)



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:33:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2623535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydemons/pseuds/simplysweetperfection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Mircalla, you shall be mine and mine alone</em>, she said when there was blood on your chin and a dead man sprawled at your feet. She had licked the iron from your skin and said, <em>mine, mine, mine</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you see i'm only here to let you know that i love you and i'll never let you go

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [Gun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0u8uTRdirE) by Emiliana Torrini. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

 

 

" _Sweetheart_ ," Mother says, Laura's fingers against your chin and her eyes at your lips. You can't feel your hands trembling. You can't feel much of anything, only warm fingers against your skin and _ohgodohgodohgod_ racing through your veins.

 

"Mother," you say, small and broken and _pleading_ , "please."

 

Her fingers tighten around you, until nails are drawing blood and Mother is licking her lips slowly. "Mircalla, did you think I wouldn't know?" she purrs, but it is so very wrong. Laura is looking back at you with eternity in her gaze and your dead heart would be pounding if Mother hadn't taken it from you years ago with a kiss and soft whisper of your name.

 

 _Mircalla, you shall be mine and mine alone_ , she said when there was blood on your chin and a dead man sprawled at your feet. She had licked the iron from your skin and said, _mine, mine, mine_.

 

You swallow. She growls a little then, deep in her throat, and says, "You know I don't like it when my children are disobedient. I don't need to remind you about your last pet, do I?" And you remember Ell, remember her terrified screams as Mother ripped her from your digits, remember the smile Mother gave you as your bones cracked and Ell cried so, so sweetly.

 

You shiver a little and ache to touch Laura's face, to look and look, and find her under the devil that has taken her place. You wonder if she screams like Ell, wherever she may be.

 

"Why are you doing this?" you ask your voice so tired and so old. You know this game, you know the way she grows in the cracks of your being, the way she splits you slowly and intimately until you end on your knees praying for her to brush your hair from your face and say, _yes, darling, we will eat the world one day_.

 

"Of course, I'm doing it for _you_ ," she says slowly and grins wolfishly. You remember Laura's hesitant face and the blankets between your fingers when you stood.

 

You flinch.

 

 

+

 

 

Mother trails her hand down your side once Will and Kirsch are gone. She traces the hem of your dress around your thighs and says, "If you wanted my attention so badly, you only had to ask."

 

You don't say anything, only shiver when Laura's warm fingers press to the cold of your inner thigh. You could stop her, could break her fingers and remind Mother how fragile the frame that holds her truly is. But Laura is still there somewhere, probably kicking and screaming and fighting with your name, so you clench your teeth and walk to the other end of the room.

 

Mother smiles a little, because she knows why you are curled up in yourself and why you can't rip out her spine now, ending her eternal life. Mother knows, and _ohgodlauralauralaura_. You want to bury your head in your hands and forget the world turning around you, but you _can't_ , because Mother has Laura and you still care too much to allow anything to happen to her.

 

You remember her growing smile and the ruby of the necklace.

 

Your hand aches now, from when your panicked desperation raced ahead of your usual cold logic as you tried to get Mother far away from Laura and her sweet, sweet innocence. You would have brought it down to the bottom of the ocean with you, if you could, leave it in that cold cavern and laugh as you imagined Mother's frustrated screams.

 

You can't now. You have to stay and watch the creature in your roommate's skin and you have to stop her from dragging a knife across Laura's wrists and claiming one of the very few things you hold dear. You have to stay and watch as Mother puts her fingers to everything in your room, as she infects the little space you thought could be your haven. She fingers the charm on Laura's desk now, the dried wing crinkling under her thumb, and you clash your teeth, growling like the animal you are.

 

Mother beams proudly.

 

 

+

 

 

"Darling," she says, legs spread and fingers trailing up the pale expanse of Laura's thigh. You have to grit your teeth and look away. "We take what we please."

 

You close your eyes and imagine what Laura might taste like.

 

 

+

 

 

Mother is the one who taught you kiss the corners of girls' cheeks, to let your fingers linger on their skin just a touch longer than you were supposed to. Mother taught you to read geography and sociology and to take and _take_ what you wished because you are never-ending.

 

"Mircalla," she says now, with Laura's body and with Laura's voice, and she tries to remind you just how much you took from the world and just what you will take from this girl with kisses and promises of eternity.

 

( _Carmilla_ , you want to say, _it's Carmilla, carmillacarmillacarmilla, and I took everything._ )

 

 

+

 

 

"Just a taste," she whispers against the shell of your ear with fingers traversing across your skin.

 

You turn and face the wall, trying to forget how badly your bones ache.

 

 

+

 

 

Mother saved you.

 

As much as you despise her, as much as you wish she was suffering an eternal torment, as much as you swallow down the heartache, she still saved you. And some days, it is the only thing you are grateful of. You can watch as the world opens with philosophy and technology and understanding and you can see the universe grow from the single shining star lighting the sky to galaxies upon galaxies. Mother saved you and you are not so afraid you know everything this universe has to offer.

 

But there are days, of course, in which the world is tight around you, pressing down on your frame. You have to run and run somewhere far away, where the air is clear and the sky is open and you can _see_ this is not the end of everything. There are days when you cannot pull yourself from bed, when you are so far trapped in your own head it's almost as terrible as the eternity of darkness in that coffin. You are consumed by the dead blood in your veins and the heartache in your mouth.

 

Ell used to save you those days. Mother took her. Laura saves you now, and, well, Mother is cruel.

 

She is cruel now, with her coy smiles and her old wisdom and her callous touches upon your frame. Mother is here and reminding you just how far the world has shrunk since you climbed from the earth to the sounds of screams.

 

(And, _god_ , you wish Mother had just danced the night away when that man split your insides. You wish she twirled and twirled and you could be rightly dead and nothing but dust with the rest of your family. But Mother is cruel, and she takes the end from you as well.)

 

 

 +

 

 

"Mircalla, we take what we please," she says, and there is a hard glint to her voice that you remember from the time when she had you in chains, bruised and bloody and beaten. "I took this body. My Mircalla would have done the same."

 

You know. _You know_.

 

"I'm not her anymore," you have to say, because the young girl who loved the blood and freedom died in a coffin listening to Ell's screams. You have to say it, because you are so, so afraid it still hasn't changed. You are afraid because there are many times when the blood across your lips and against the back of your throat calls for you, warm and wet and screaming. _It's Carmilla now_ , you want to say, and try to forget the feel of hearts between your sticky fingers.

 

 _itscarmillacarmillacarmillaanditookeverything_.

 

 

+

 

 

"Where is she?"

 

" _Darling_."

 

"Where is she?"

 

"Where she is supposed to be."

 

 

+

 

 

You haven't eaten for days, and Mother cuts the tip of her finger silently.

 

And when she smears it on your skin, across your lips and against your pointed teeth, you crack Laura's desk and _ache_ to crack her neck instead. _But Laura_ , you have to tell yourself again and again. _But Laura_ , you say, tongue against the red on your teeth.

 

 _lauralauralauralaura_ , you are so very hungry.

 

 

+

 

 

 _You shall be mine and mine alone_ , and oh god, you are, you are, you are.

 

 

+

 

 

You remember one time, watching as Mother kissed a man and moved over him slowly. You remember his screams when she bit into him, ripping a chunk of skin with her teeth. She beckoned for you then, where you were peeking and shaking, and she said your name with her fingers sticky and colored against the dying man's chest.

 

You remember the way her naked skin glowed red under the candle light with bits of gore still clinging to her teeth. She told you to come and she smeared the blood across your cheeks, laughing when your breath stuttered. _Darling_ , she said, and kissed you bloody.

 

(You hate the way you miss those days, the taste of terror and her ironed victories thrumming through your dead veins.)

 

 

+

 

 

"You always have been my favorite."

 

She grins, and you can't find anymore Laura in her face.

 

 

+

 

 

"What would you do for me?" you remember her saying one time. Your dress was halfway down your chest and the woman was still warm under your teeth when Mother came, when she pressed her fingers to your skull as you drank.

 

" _Anything_ ," you said then, and cried when she dug her nails into your skin and said your name.

 

Now, she presses her fingers to the corners of your mouth and asks again, _what would you do for me_?

 

You are older now, you are colder, and you are strong when she traces the curves of your lips with Laura's thumbs. _Nothing_ , you say now, and convince yourself again and again and again and -

 

 

+

 

 

"Mircalla." Mother smiles, and Laura's neck pulses. You lick your lips.

 

You are so _hungry_.

 

You take and take and _take_ until Laura yelps.

 

( _carmillamircallacarmilla, and I take everything._ )

 

 


End file.
